


A Sound Soul Dwells Within A Sound Mind And A Sound Body

by Nihiley_Face



Series: SFW Fics [11]
Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Abusive Relationships, Angst with a Happy Ending, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Monster Tom, Rape/Non-con Elements, Recovery, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-14 06:36:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13001961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nihiley_Face/pseuds/Nihiley_Face
Summary: Tord figures out that he's a sadistic asshole who's abusing Tom. They talk about it.[Previously The Realization]





	1. The Realization

**Author's Note:**

> This is kinda dark, but it seems like where future Tom/Tord would go, y'know, all that power goin to his head, anyone'd go crazy

_I grabbed my head and hunched over on the floor, suppressing the urge to vomit._

_It hurt._

_Everything hurt._

_I could barely move and walking was out of the option a long time ago._

_Talking took too much effort._

_Wiggling my damn fingers was painful to the core._

_But it was all in my head._

_Why move?_

_Why talk?_

_Why get up in the morning?_

_Why eat?_

_Why live?_

_Why breathe?_

_It doesn't matter._

_I don't matter._

_They don't matter._

_He doesn't matter._

_None of it matters._

_Its all insane. Nothing is real. Nothing is right. I don't belong._

_Breathe._

_Everything looks like its breathing._

_I touch the blankets gently. I don't want to hurt them._

_I run my hands on the walls. They're horribly delicate. They crumble in my hands._

_Breathe._

_Nothing is moving._

_Nothing is breathing._

_Its all dead._

_It died._

_It doesn't matter anymore. I killed it._

_I smile._

_Its my turn now._

 

Tom exploded. 

Tord found him on the floor of their shared quarters. He wasn't breathing. He didn't move. It was wrong. Tord preformed mouth to mouth on him, and Tom woke up soon afterwards. Nobody knew what happened. Not half an hour later, after a terrifying trip to the ER with no results and Tord was still keeping an eye on him, Tom had a full blown panic attack. He was crying and laughing and screaming and his thoughts were getting to him. 

He sat on his knees on the ground, grabbing his head. He vomited on the ground twice. It was this inky, black liquid that was disgusting to look at. Looking at Tom vomiting up this ichor was like trying to drink curdled milk. It made Tord sick. Tom hyperventilated on the floor and over and over, he called himself these terrible things. Whore. Imbecile. Filthy, disgusting pig. Swine. Slut. A man against God. Monster. Scum. Bottom feeder. Monster. Fag. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monster. Monstermonstermonstermonster-

It stopped. 

Tom was on the ground, on his side. He wasn't breathing. He didn't move. Tord was on the verge of a panic attack, himself. This was downright terrifying. Tord gulped and walked over to Tom. He kneeled down, turning his body to face him. Tom had shifted slightly in his unconscious state. He got bigger. His eyes turned into one. His mouth moved down his chest and his neck disappeared into his shoulders. Horns sprouted from his head. But it all happened so fast. So, so fast. It was horrifying. 

Tord screamed. 

Tom awoke and shifted more. Impossible! Thought Tord. I'd given him the serum, he shouldn't be able to do this! Tord crabwalked backwards as he had stumbled and fallen on the floor when Tom stood. Tord hyperventilated and gulped. He needed his gun. His gun, his gun, hisgun- Where was it? Tord stumbled to his feet, fear creating a dark pit in his stomach. He searched the drawers of his desk frantically for the gun that could put Tom down. 

It was quiet.

Tord shuffled through papers in drawers and pens and pencils and folders and hentai mags and- There! 

It was too quiet. 

Nervously, Tord looked up at Tom. 

Tom hadn't shifted past three quarters. Tord gulped again. He took in a shaky breath and looked Tom in the eye. He brandished the gun, but seemed hesitant as he tried to figure out what kind of expression was on Tom's face. 

He just looked tired. Like he hadn't had a good night's rest in years. He looked like the kind of person who lived off of two hours of sleep and eight cups of coffee evey day, even if he was shifted three quarters.

Tord kept the gun up in case he moved.

Did Tom really think he was a monster?

Did Tom really think those things he called himself?

Something was wrong. Something was horribly, terribly absolutely fucking wrong with Tom and it scared Tord to death.

Tom stared at him with this empty gaze. 

Tord swore he could get lost in it. Like pools of black ink from a fountain pen. But the ink wasn't used to write love letters and sweet things. It was used to write horrible things, like suicide notes and tax notices.

Tord kept a close eye on Tom, his gun still up. His hands shook a little, but he kept it under control enough to seem brave about this. But Tom could smell it. His fear. However, Tom didn't seem to care. He didn't look at Tord, instead, just past him, at the wall. He exhaled through his nose, some of the air visible. Tom curled up on the floor, his back to Tord. 

Tord furrowed his brows. What? He had a clear shot to Tom, yet he wasn't shooting. Something told him that wasn't right. Some little voice in the back of his head had been talking. He couldn't hear it over his surperiority complex and his greed and hunger for power. This voice was his empathy talking. His feelings. It's been so long since Tord was truly in touch with his own emotions. It seemed too weak of him to do, so he never did it. But now, his head was quiet, and he could hear it. 

Tom was hurting. He was desperate for anything to grasp onto, anything that would keep him clinging to life, but every day, he found less and less. Less reasons to eat. Less reasons to get out of bed. Less reasons to live. Tord listened. Tord had been treating Tom like shit. Absolute shit. And it was taking a serious toll on his mental health. Tord dropped the gun. Tom didn't flinch. Tord looked at Tom's exposed back, wide eyed. 

In front of his soldiers, Tord would beat Tom if he stepped out of line. He'd rarely stop before Tom was bruised and bloody, but he never cried or begged for mercy. He took it. All with that empty gaze. Tord hated that gaze. Tom acted like this arrogant bastard who didn't care about anything, when clearly, this was all very important. More important than Tom, that is. Tord had those thoughts regularly. He couldn't believe he thought that. He even said it, once, and when he did, Tom gave that empty gaze, and Tord hit him. Tord needed to be in control, but he wasn't in control of Tom. He was never in control of him. So, he took out his frustration on Tom by beating him. Tom would cough and spit up blood, and Tord kept going. Tom would fall on the ground and not get up, and Tord would call him weak. Tom fell unconscious and was thus incapable of moving, and Tord beat him for that. Paul and Patrick have both had to pull Tord off of Tom countless times. They would take him to the ER and try to fix the damage Tord had caused, while Tord cooled down, or paced outside in the hall. 

Tom never wanted to see Tord when he woke up.

But he let him in anyways.

Like he always does.

Tord would look at Tom and blame him for it. Tord would blame Tom with phrases like, "Well, if you hadn't done this," or, "You should stop doing this, and I won't have to beat you!" Tord blamed Tom for something that clearly wasn't his fault. 

Not to mention the things he did to Tom in bed. It was consensual, yes, but Tom still didn't want to do half the things he did with Tord. He was uncomfortable, too tired, too depressed, not in the mood. He didn't want to. But he said yes because he was scared. Scared of being hurt again. Beaten. 

Tom wasn't the monster, here. 

Tord fell to his knees and grabbed his head.

No, it was Tord.


	2. Rough Around The Edges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tom and Tord talk about their feelings. Well, mostly Tom. Yeah, it's just Tom.

Tord is silent. He sits on his knees, staring at the floor blankly. He doesn't know what to say about this epiphany. Does he apologize? No, that seems too... Not enough. He feels awful for making Tom feel the way he does. He feels like a proper dickhead. Scum of the Earth. He looks up at Tom. He hasn't shifted further, but he also hasn't shifted down. Tord sighed. If he's the one to start this, then he needs to start it now, or Tom's suffering will never end. 

"I understand," Tord began, a lump forming in his throat. He managed to swallow it down. He didn't look at Tom, who still had his leathery back turned on his partner. "I understand that you're angry, Tom." He said. Tord clenched his fists in front of him. "You have every right to be." Tord's eyes welled up with tears. He hesrd a strange groaning sound from Tom's side of the room, and he looked up. Tom was shifting down. Wow. It sounded painful. Tord felt bad for 'punishing' Tom when he shifted out of his schedule. The shifting itself was punishment enough. Tord felt awful for just thinking that. Tom spoke up. Tord looked at him, and noticed that he was naked. Tord turned a little bit pink, no matter how many times he's seen this scene before. 

Tom's breath hitched. He sounded like he was panting, breathing heavily. Tord noticed that his teeth were clenched and his fists were balled tight in front of him. His shoulders shook and he didn't look up. "I'm not angry." Tom hissed through his teeth. Tord begged to differ. He sounded angry. Then, Tord saw it.

Tord watched as tears fell from Tom's empty eyes and slid down his nose, dripping to the floor. "I don't have the willpower to be angry, Tord." His breathing hitched again, and he squeezed his eyes shut. Tord believed this was merely a fraction of how Tom really felt. "I'm not angry." Tom repeated. "I'm in pain." His voice wavered. "I'm in pain and you put me here, in Limbo!" Tom raised his voice a little bit. "You- you- you-!" Tom clenched his teeth and fists more and his voice got louder. More tears fell and Tom looked up at Tord. "You said you loved me." Tom's voice grew quiet, and it suddenly just became very sad. The sound of Tom speaking in a voice as broken as that one shattered Tord's cold little heart into millions of little pieces. Tom continued. "You said you loved me more than anything in the world." Tord looked away from Tom, ducking his head a little in shame. "Yet, it seems- it seems you-" Tom had trouble speaking at this point. "You abandoned me for the world." Tord snuck a glance at Tom, and he noticed the position he was in. 

Tom was on guard, closing himself off. His arms were wrapped around his chest, albeit loosely, and he was hunched over. He stopped looking at Tord. "You stopped caring about me. You beat me and blamed me for it. You made me suffer and I couldn't stop it!" Tom raised his voice again. "And you had the audacity to say you loved me!" Tom began to sob at this point. His shoulders shook as violent sobs threw his body around like a limp ragdoll. Tom fell on his side and curled into a fetal position. 

Tord didn't know what to say anymore. "Tom..." He called out, but didn't elaborate. 

It took a few minutes of Tom sobbing by himself pathetically in one corner of the room for him to start talking again. He sniffled. "I'm so tired, Tord." Tom looked at the floor and curled in on himself further. "I'm so tired of this rough lifestyle you've given me." Tord was a little confused. "What do you mean?" He asked, looking at Tom. "Everything is so rough around the edges." Tom explained. "The sex is so rough, it's not even fun anymore. I'm uncomfortable." Tord felt quite a bit dirty when Tom said that, and not in a good way. He felt disgusting. "You use it against me, and it hurts." Tom's voice broke off at the end. "I don't like it anymore, Tord. It's not fun, it hurts." He cried a little more towards the end of the sentence. Tord felt a little bit like a rapist. He felt like he took advantage of Tom, forced him into submission and didn't take into account his feelings about it. Tord took a deep breath in. 

"The words you use are too rough." Tom hugged himself a little more. From what Tord got was Tom wasn't used to talking about sensitive subjects like this. He seemed shy and embarrassed. Tom was afraid to talk about how he felt to Tord. That right there said a lot. "The things you say to me hurt." Tom's voice started to shake again, and his breath hitched. He took a deep inhale, and tried to continue. "You say awful things to me. You call me these names when you don't know, I have quite a history with those words, and none of it is good." Tord briefly wondered what words Tom was referring to, but all he had to do to figure that out was think about the last time they had sex. 

Tord spat out words like, 'whore' and 'slut', even the occasional 'faggot'. He couldn't possibly imagine how that made Tom feel. 

Tom went on. "Everything is so rough, and I'm tired of it. I want peace." Tom sighed, hugging himself a little more. "I want it to be peaceful in my head, now. I want quiet, and calm." Tom gave a bitter laugh. "God, I feel like a seventy-year-old man asking for that, but please." The sound of desperation in Tom's voice when he begged for peace was ridiculous. He shouldn't have to ask with that much desperation for something that should just be a basic right for him. It was stupid that Tom had to talk about this with Tord, that he had to beg for him to stop.

Tord never should have started in the first place.

"I don't know how long I need it to last, but I need you to be prepared for it to last forever." Tom slowly got a little more comfortable confronting Tord on this. "If you can't do that, then I have to leave, or this kind of living will kill me." Tom's voice became very quiet at the end. Tord looked at Tom, realizing he was giving Tord a chance to redeem himself, show Tom that he could be what he needed. Anything he needed. "Yes!" Tord agreed a little too urgently, and Tom jumped. He looked at Tord, eyes a little wider. Tord corrected himself. "Yes." He stated. "I, uh, I am prepared to handle that." Tom looked worried. "Are you sure?" He asked, nervous. Tord nodded, slowly coming closer to Tom. "I'm sure I can handle it." He looked at Tom with his one good eye, smiling so gently, Tom looked like he wanted to cry again. 

"Okay." Tom replied, his voice soft and quiet. 

Tord goes on. "I realize that I am hurting you with the way I've been treating you." Tom doesn't add on or comment. "But I do love you, very much." He starts to approach Tom some more. "And I want you to be happy. Nobody deserves to feel the way you do right now." Tom looked a bit tearful again, but didn't look at Tord. He buried his face in his arms. "So yes, Tom. I accept your request for peace. You deserve it more than anyone else here." Tord gets about five feet from Tom, and Tom looked up. He flinched, backing away a little bit, before realizing he was against a wall. He looked a little panicked. 

Sensing this, Tord backed away. He apologized for invading Tom's personal space. Tom didn't answer. Neither of them were used to being 'gentle' or 'calm' or even 'peaceful', but if not being those things was taking that serious a toll on Tom's mental health, then Tord was willing to do whatever it takes to get Tom back into the swing of things. Tom was in a very delicate stage right now, at the very beginning of what Tord hoped would be his recovery. He had to be very, very careful, lest Tom snap and... Something really bad happens. 

Tord raised his hands in caution, showing Tom he meant no harm. Tom looked at him, a bit terrified. It was like finding a stray kitten in the street. Tord wanted to take care of him, but they needed to establish a bond of trust. Or in this case, reestablish one.

Shockingly, Tom was the one to finish closing the gap. He slowly sat up, taking Tord by surprise. Very slowly, Tom crept forward. Not a single word was said between them, but their eyes were locked together. They didn't break eye contact for a second while Tom crawled forward. Tom nervously came towards Tord as if he were the stranger on the street offering food to the scared, stray kitten. In this case, the food was the calm, peace and comfort Tord promised. They were now one foot apart. Tord lowered his hands to open his arms, and smiled a little. Tom jumped to Tord, hugging him tightly around his chest. He didn't cry anymore, but instead, he took comfort in knowing he could if he needed to. He was safe, now. 

Tord was taken aback by the sudden leap, and chuckled. He smiled warmly and hugged Tom back, burying his face in Tom's neck and shoulder. "I promise, I love you." Tord swore. Tom smiled to himself and buried his face in Tord's chest. "That's nice and all," Tom began. Tord looked confused. "But can I get some clothes? I'm cold." He leaned more into Tord and shivered. Torf laughed a little. "Yeah, let's get you dressed." But not before he nuzzled Tom's cheek and kissed him softly. Tom turned pink and looked away, shy. Tord smiled and helped Tom up to the closet, grabbing him some clothes. Tord cancelled all appointments he had for today; Tom needed him, now. Tom got dressed in some worn sweatpants and a red turtleneck of Tord's that was about eight sizes too big on Tom, but Tom curled up on the bed anyways, giving zero fucks. Tord found himself slightly amused by this, and he just couldn't stop smiling.

He lay in bed with Tom after removing his coat and boots. Underneath, he wore a red hoodie similar to his old, shredded one. He held Tom tightly in his arms and saw how Tom closed his eyes and didn't oppose the gentle force. Yeah, Tord thought. I could get used to this.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking of adding one last chapter after this, and may write more about some of this recovery. Might turn into cartoon-y shenanigans and less dark/depressing bullshit.
> 
> Also, follow me on Tumblr for more gay ass darkfic bullshit @ daddy-issues-anon.tumblr.com


End file.
